


British Broadcasting Corporation

by Neo_Naughtager



Category: Jroleplay (The Centricide Webseries Roleplay), Realicide - Grej (Web Series)
Genre: BBC, Caught, Dars name is charlie in jroleplay canon deal with it, Darwinist's slurs are censored its fine, Ep is heavily implied but never outright stated, How Do I Tag, Implied Relationships, Internalized Homophobia, Minor Kismesissitude, Original Character(s), Other, Porn Watching, Slurs, Straggot Moment, well its implied, yes I'm blackshipping half the antirealists with my original character no you cant stop me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:35:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27724253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neo_Naughtager/pseuds/Neo_Naughtager
Summary: Darwinist gets caught between a rock and a stiff place, to the dismay of a scientist.In which I make shitty puns
Relationships: Darwinist/Epistemological Anarchism, Darwinist/Original Character(s), Darwinist/Technocracy if ya squint
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	British Broadcasting Corporation

“Dar... Mmm, do you know where one of my laptops is?” Jasmine asks, peeking into the living room. In the background was the usual ambience of the expansive bunker- Neotech was yelling about something in the distance; pumps, wires and pipes were rattling and whirring, all components going about their respective song. But sprawled out on the couch in his own offbeat way, the darwinist rolls his eyes with a chuckle.

“Heh, I know where _my_ laptop is, why?”

“Charlie, did you... take it again? You’re-” The technocrat’s sentence is punctuated with a yawn. “- always… snooping around. Mm… You could… Just ask to borrow it… Next time… Now... where is it…?”

With a sigh, and a few slurs, he hands the laptop, covered in various pride stickers and quite a bit of blood- the latter probably from the stained hands of the hyper-rightist. Technocracy takes it with a quiet nod and a dull as usual thanks.

“Thank you.” They mutter, immediately opening it to check it’s search history briefly. Oh shit. Dar could suddenly feel a cold sweat brewing on the back of his neck, and he grips his knife. Not in any threating way- He knew his strength and couldn’t take the scientist in a fight. It was more so akin to how one would grip a stress ball- to merely relieve tension that was building. Why was he feeling tense again? It’s not as if he had anything to hide. And if he did, he’s certain he used incognito mode. Right?

…

Oh fuck-

“H-Hey! Ya mind if I- I mean, What you all on about-” he stutters out, reaching back for the device.

Jasmine raised an eyebrow, tilting their head as the swarm of red hair cascaded down to follow. “Mm. What have you got to hide...?”

The darwinist doesn’t respond, can’t find the words to do so in a dried out mouth, and the scientist offers little more than a dry chuckle as they continue.

“Then let’s just see-”

“N-No wait, fucking [slur]-!!” The darwinist stammers out, but is is already too late. The technocrats eyes are already scanning the screen. God, Why didn’t it cross his mind to fucking use incognito mode?!

Jaz didn’t say anything to Charlie for a long moment. The tension was so palpable, Dar felt as if he could slice right through it like the flesh of an Ahospice. It was fucking killing him, and he grips the handle of his favorite knife even tighter to steel his nerves.

After what seems like ages, they finally look up to speak to him.

“… Dar.”

“Y-Yeah, Gingie?” Dar was not shaking because shaking is for the weak. He was not weak- Nay, he was never weak. Especially not in front of Technocracy.

“What is a… mm… ‘bbc compilation’...?” The redhead mutters in their usual uninterested tone.

Oh.

Dar could feel his face go red against his wishes, and he internally curses himself for that. Strong in body he might be, dealing with emotions was something he was decidedly unbased in doing. His first and only instinct was to lie. I mean, he wasn’t a [gay slur], he made that clear, but explaining the complex intricacies of exactly what the fuck he was doing simply thirty minutes prior would be… Difficult. 

Oh, Dar knew exactly what that phrase was- and his mind is instantly filled with all of the connotations it held. He could recall with immense detail the feeling of silicone against his skin as he was held down oh so willingly and thoroughly pounded into, mewling and purring and begging for something he knew there was no logical way he could handle. There were late nights of edging himself to the brink of insanity, all at the word of the mad fucking doctor that’d carve him up if he disobeyed. And he sure did love to fucking disobey… Dar had half clear memories of the progressively more and more degenerate dreams he’d been having, as well as the billowing need to satisfy the odd craving with whatever form or media he could scavenge the internet for. 

He wasn’t gay, no, no sir not at all- What was gay about merely appreciating an appreciation worthy cock, anyway? Dar was… mostly, somewhat, perhaps kind of certain of himself in that regard. If only it didn’t take up almost any free space in his head… He- has to take a minute to compose himself, clear his head and formulate an answer as it leaves his mouth with not a trace of any sort of emotion behind it. How long had he been daydreaming about that monster cock-?

“… British Broadcasting Corporation.” Dar says plainly, still fiddling with his knife.

Jaz grows silent for a moment. A long moment, longer than usual. They adjust their goggles with a huff as they to take a moment to process what the fuck Darwinist actually just said.

“You…Mm, You honestly... Expect me to believe… That you- Someone most adamant about hating mainstream news among the antirealists- Was looking up video compilations of- of the British Broadcasting Corporation- on a porn site…?”

“...Yes”. The feral lad rolls off of his back- he felt too vulnerable like that- and stabs the knife into the coffee table. Right in front of the technocrat.

Yet, the scientist seems unphased by this action. “Threats are meaningless when there’s solid proof of there being no merit behind them, Friend…” They says with an eye roll and a yawn, not mocking in any way but honestly tired. “And… It honestly would be the least concerning of the things you’ve done so far… Mmm… And none of my business.”

Jasmine takes the laptop and trots off without another word, continuing about their business.


End file.
